Nine Poems

Andreea Suciu, Romania

Andreea Suciu is Romanian and currently an EFL teacher at the “Ana Aslan” Technical College in Cluj Napoca, Romania. She has a BA in English and Journalism and a MA in American Literature and Linguistics. She has held workshops at the RATE-IATEFL Conference held in Cluj Napoca, Romania, 2005 and 2009 editions. She was a Module Coordinator for the TeachToday Consortium in the TIS programme in 2010. Particularly committed to teaching English as creatively as possible, she is the Coordinator of a Comenius Multilateral Partnership in her school, project3e.wikispaces.com.
Email: andreea.d.suciu@gmail.com

THE RUE OF MY HEART

Many regrets ago I used to know you
You were always coming for a visit
And then you used to stay for years…

I even left my old habits for a while;
I wonder if I could return to them again?

He won’t like this new me
‘Too much Creation,’ he might say.

COVENANT

I nailed a sign today;
It read: “CLOSED”
No one’s to enter my heart again.
No zigzagged paths to follow
No bridges of sighs or sorrow
It is just me alone from now on.

THE SANDWICH SHOP

If you were a sandwich shop
What kind of sandwich would you sell?
And at the end of the day
Would you give yourself away
to people?

MY PRESENT

What would I give you if you were to leave?
A pair of golden keys
So that you may remember me?
Or maybe a locket
To pretend I don’t exist?
A pair of thoughts
Would always be dangerous to give
as you may mix them with
sweet-sour- bitter honey
and lick them from the plate of knowledge;

an addiction might form and then regrets appear…

YESTERDAY’S NEWSPAPER

Please fold me over,
I am yesterday’s newspaper.
I am history.

I am not blank
There is no room on my pages.
Somebody else filled me
And now my life is shaped.
I can’t change it; I can only fold it over.

OUVERTURE

My heart has strings
Who dares to come and play them?

My heart is like a drum
Who dares to come and stop her?

My heart is void
What air dares come and inhabit her?

APOCALIPS AFTER ME

There is this thirst and hunger
That grows as big as the wings of an angel.

My world will crash. There’s no one to rescue her.
My atoms will be lost and pulverized in many uncertain pieces.
Where is my salvation?
Maybe it’s being kept back because it doesn’t fit into the plot.

So, this was all I could give;
A sigh of sadness and relief
Transpires from all the corners of my being:
The books I read, the music I played, the people I shared –
All shatter and sigh.

And they all demand to be taken away!

SOBRIETY

Take time to celebrate your innocence
Since it will soon be harvested
by your new experience –
your adulthood. It creeps in so smirky and obtrusive.
Responsibility builds inside you a wall of stone
and carves on it its Law.

Each year that passes by locks one more door
To the outside. There’s no escape –
Just sorrows and regrets.

And sober wisdom to be proud of.

NO COLOUR

We are happy, motionless people
In our way of life.
Like rag dolls on a shelf
We look expectedly for a hand
To come and touch us.

Why is there so much silence?
No curtain to raise, no applause to be heard.
We sit and wait.
No air to fill us, no light to shape us.

Do you still have the memory of us?
Does your mind still flickers
when you remember us, Master Puppeteer?
Can you feel the tension in the line beneath you?
Hush…..

A faint trace of dust lifts up, surrounding us
In an ephemeral cloud. There is no colour, there is no scent –
There’s only a memory.